“Isn’t that queer?” said Rose. “How uncivil!”
“Very.”
At the landing they went ashore, and pushed on to see what was the source of the blaze.
Presently Lyndsay halted, noticing the sparks about him. “There is no wind, Michelle.”
“No, sir; and the woods are soaking wet. I’ve a notion it’s Colkett’s.”
“Best to see. I will wait at the boat. I don’t want to run any risk with Miss Lyndsay.” But at this moment he heard Jack’s challenge, and so all the threads of my story are spun together.
As they ran down-stream, Lyndsay was a little uneasy concerning what might be his wife’s judgment as to his course in regard to Carington; but he had felt very deeply the obligation under which the young man had placed them, and he was clear enough that there had been really nothing else to do. Nevertheless, he was shrewd as to the domestic management of the matter. At the landing he said to Rose:
“Wait a moment, you and Jack,” and then ran up the steps and into the house.
By this time Rose was in full command of herself, and able, as her father left them, to speak tranquilly enough to the wounded man.
“Yes, he was in some pain; but, to judge from his own feelings, the trouble could not be grave.”